Sympathy For The Devil
by Twin-Insanity
Summary: It was a perfectly wonderful evening, much to the chargrin on one evil being. Japan certainly wouldn't be the same again after this one pretty boy gets through with it.
1. Prolouge

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any Yu Yu Hakusho characters, nor do I own the Catholic Religion. I also do not own any of the songs by the Rolling Stones. Thank you.

**Important Note:** This story is also under Trenity170. This is a joint account between a good friend and me. While this will at first seem like the first fic, it will go in a different direction at one point when Sabs takes over. Thank you.

_-But who prays for Satan? Who, in eighteen centuries, has had the common humanity to pray for the one sinner who needed it most? - Mark Twain _

It was not a dark and stormy night. There was no lightning in the sky or some violent winds or some other atmospheric enhancers of the sort. In fact, it was perfectly calm. A crescent moon hung in an otherwise unblemished sky, not a cloud was in sight. A bird was even singing.

Gliding down a thin ribbon of a country road was a car. Not just any car though, as the driver was not just any man. The moon reflected off the perfectly polished hood and flowed off like water as it moved silently through the calm night. Perched upon the edge of the hood, just above the pure silver grill, was a small figure. Drenched in starlight it was the figure of a woman, clad in a flowing dress, her arms thrown back in pure joy. The Rolls-Royce made its way around another curve in the road and the driver sighed.

Frustrated with the perfectly peaceful evening, the man groaned, pressing his foot against the gas pedal a little harder. Of course, for every one evil being with a good background of ominous weather, there were hundreds of other evil beings with blue skies and cotton ball clouds. Even though he knew this, it still aggravated him. Giving up, he sighed again, his shoulders slumping.

Besides the bird's sleepy song and a small chorus of crickets, it was quiet. Another peaceful night in Japan. Grumbling dark words, one manicured hand tapped against the radio's "ON" button, not bothering to change the station from its original place.

"_Please allow me to introduce myself/ I'm a man of wealth and taste/I've been around for a long, long year/Stole many a man's soul and faith/And I was 'round when Jesus Christ/Had his moment of doubt and pain/Made damn sure that Pilate/Washed his hands and sealed his fate/ Pleased to meet you/Hope you guess my name/But what's puzzling you/Is the nature of my game"_

The lyrics blared out of the speakers, filling the lush cabin of the car with drums, piano and a rough male voice. Nodding his head along to the beat, he smiled. This was more like it. Easing his weight a little harder against the gas, he turned the wheel, maneuvering around another ambling curve, his hands moving in fluid motions.

"_I stuck around St. Petersburg/When I saw it was a time for a change/Killed the czar and his ministers/Anastasia screamed in vain/I rode a tank/Held a general's rank/When the blitzkrieg raged/And the bodies stank/Pleased to meet you/Hope you guess my name, oh yeah/Ah, what's puzzling you/Is the nature of my game, oh yeah"_

Removing one hand from the wheel, he ran his fingers through his hair, sending ripples though the golden locks. Shining eerily in the moonlight, it almost gave him the impression of a halo. In fact, at first glance, one could easily mistake the man for some kind of ethereal creature from a fairytale. Piercing eyes with the same hues as a glacier, and just as much warmth, stared off into the night, cutting through the shadows effortlessly behind a thick frame of black lashes. His pale skin seemed to glow softly, the only color coming from the slight rosy blush on his delicate cheekbones. Resting on the very tip of his thin nose was a pair of small, rectangular reading glasses, framed in black steel, over which he stared at the road, lit only by his headlights. Shoulder length and pulled away from his face by a thick black band was hair the color of ripened wheat, rouge bangs framing his face in soft curls. Licking his lips absentmindedly he began to hum along with the song that flooded his car.

"_I watched with glee/While your kings and queens/Fought for ten decades/  
For the gods they made/I shouted out/Who killed the Kennedy's/When after all/It was you and me/Let me please introduce myself/I'm a man of wealth and taste/And I laid traps for troubadours/Who get killed before they reached Bombay/Pleased to meet you/Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah/But what's puzzling you/Is the nature of my game, oh yeah, get down, baby"_

Grinning mischievously he now sung aloud with the Rolling Stones, his voice striking perfect cords, his slender fingers drumming against the leather coated steering wheel. Beating out the bass line, he had almost forgotten about the bitter disappointment of having arrived during such a serene night. In fact, he was beginning to enjoy it. Not a bad way to start your vacation, though he still wouldn't complain if maybe one or two clouds rolled into the sky.

"_Pleased to meet you/Hope you guessed my name, oh yeah/But what's confusing you/Is just the nature of my game/Just as every cop is a criminal/And all the sinners saints/As heads is tails/Just call me Lucifer/'cause I'm in need of some restraint/So if you meet me/Have some courtesy/Have some sympathy, and some taste/Use all your well-learned politesse/Or I'll lay your soul to waste, um yeah/Pleased to meet you/Hope you guessed my name, um yeah/But what's puzzling you/Is the nature of my game, um mean it, get down"_

Just as the lyrics began to reach their crazed wailing something jittered on the passenger's seat next to the man. Groaning, he switched the radio off, frowning slightly at his cell phone which was dancing around the black leather seat trying urgently to get his attention. Muttering dark curse words to whoever was calling him he picked it up, unfolding the wafer thin gizmo and holding it against his left ear, the silver hoop piercing running through it clicking against the keys.

"'ello," his voice was smooth as butter, deep undertones wrapping warmly around each word.

"Don't you 'ello' me, what are you doing here?"

The voice coming through the tiny speakers sound rushed, annoyed and rather childish. It was also in Japanese. Scowling for a moment, the man replied briskly is the same foreign language, each word flowing effortlessly through soft lips.

"Oh my, I've been found, haven't I? To what do I owe the honor of this phone call?"

Though his voice was amiable enough, a minor look of annoyance flashed across his perfect features. He was hoping for a quiet break, not something as frustrating as having to explain why he wanted one in the first place.

"You know exactly what I'm calling for, so don't even try to act innocent. Japan is OFF-LIMITS to you! What part of that don't you understand?"

"Don't patronize me, I understand perfectly. I just don't care."

Smirking, he knew his flippant remark would make the caller only angrier. Personally, he really didn't mind, there was still a chance he could catch the end of that song…

"Whether or not you care is not part of the problem. Where exactly are you in Japan?"

"Hm? I've only been here a short amount of time and you expect me to know the geography already? Who do you think I am, God?"

There was an un-amused silence that lingered until he started to speak again, turning his head slightly to look out the window, his pupils dilating quickly to make up for the pure darkness outside.

"Huh, well if you must know, I'm driving through the hills and there's such a cute little city nearby, I think I'll stop there in the morning, get something to drink."

He could almost see the speaker begin to panic, trying to figure out just what city he was talking about. Laughing quietly to himself, he pulled the car over, the wheels crunching against gravel, his bumper stopping just before the steel guardrails. Pressing the release button on his seatbelt he got out of the car, slammed the door and leaned up against the hood, free hand tucked into the pocket of his clean black slacks.

"Where the Hell are you?" though the speaker on the other line was technically asking a question, it sounded far too much like an order for the man's taste.

"Certainly not there! Of course, if I told you, you most certainly wouldn't lean anything from this experience now would you?"

Grinning from ear to ear, he let the cool breeze wash over his skin, tugging gently at his clothes like an insistent child. Pushing his bangs away from his eyes he waited for a response. It didn't take long.

"If you do not leave, I will be forced to send people after you!"

This only made him laugh. It was a pleasant laugh, deep, making his entire body shake in delight as he nearly doubled over. Gasping for breath, he leaned back, nearly dropped the phone onto the rough gray gravel below, catching it last minute. Placing it back to his ear, he began to contemplate buying one of those fancy headsets, but didn't get very far before the voice spoke again.

"Just WHAT exactly is so funny?"

"You, that's what so funny. Was that a threat coming from you? Child, you still have a Binky! Get rid of that thing, and maybe I'll take you seriously. In the mean time, don't mess with me; I'm far older than you'll ever be."

Deciding to take a casual stroll around his car he waited for the response that he knew was going to come. In the meantime, he searched for that infernal bird, it was nearby, and he knew it. His eyes scanning the sparse trees, he was searching for anything even vaguely feathered.

"My age has nothing to do with the fact that you are NOT ALLOWED HERE!"

Pulling the speaker away from his ear and slightly, he could image that young, toddler like face tinting crimson in anger. Snickering, a jagged, bird shaped leaf burst into flames. Seeing that it was not the annoying feathered fiend of cheerful song, he frowned slightly and began his search anew.

"Damn…" he muttered, disappointedly.

"What are you swearing about now!"

"Huh? Oh, nothing… just where is that little bugger?"

"WHAT 'little bugger'?"

Pulled forcefully back into the conversation, he realized that he was indeed still talking on the phone. Sighing, he thought about what to say.

"A bird… it's been bugging me…"

"A bird?" the man sounded incredulous, saying the word slowly. "You're upset over a bird?"

"Yes, Yes." Still distracted, he heard the happy little tune fill the air once again.

"You are… so…"

"Frustrating? Annoying? Maddening? Those are the ones I've heard most often," he added helpfully, nodding his head along with each word.

"The fact that you know this should be sign to you," the voice added dryly.

"Aw, that's just mean, Koenma!" he protested, though his serious tone was ruined by laughter.

"Just… please… GET OUT OF JAPAN!" There was an odd desperation Koenma's voice and the man sighed, bored.

His attention span long since lost with the conversation, he yawned, pinned the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he stretched his arms out above him. Deciding that, since the conversation was back where it started and had successfully completed a circled (more of an oval really), it must end.

"What? What did you say?" not waiting for a response he quickly added in one word. "Sorrybadreceptiongottagolosingyou!" Snapping the phone angrily shut he turned it off and shoved it down the left pocket of his warm suit coat.

"Dammit… that was boring…" he muttered.

Heaving himself off the car's hood and back onto his feet, he swayed unsure for a moment before regaining balance and sighing appreciatively. Strolling slowly back to the left side of the car he opened the door and slipped back into the plush seat. Folding his long legs into the cabin, gently tapping his right foot against the thin gas pedal and pulled the car into reverse, stopping for a moment to check out what was on the radio. He was deeply disappointed as some pop princess' voice danced out the car's speakers. Disgustedly slamming his fist against the thick on/off button of the radio, he sighed in relief as silence filled the car. Blessing under his breath he pulled back from the steel guard rails of the road and drove off, into the city, silent as ever.

On the third branch of an oak, the only bird singing that night burst into a cloud of feathers.

The man grinned victoriously.

-Well that's it. Please Review and tell me what you think. Thanks! _  
_


	2. Coffee and a Warning

**Note**: Reviews will be answered at the end of his chapter.

_-Edgar: The Prince of Darkness is a gentleman – Shakespeare_

In the Human Realm it was a beautiful night, one of many in an otherwise turbulent spring. In the Spirit Realm, it was by far a different matter. Columns of paperwork had spilled off the top of a sturdy oak desk, waiting to be read, stamped and sent off to the proper departments. Occasionally another stack would be brought in, though the person in charge of the paperwork had yet to have noticed. In fact, someone had just hung up on him, falsely claiming bad reception even though he knew that the phone service never lost reception. That was mainly due to the fact that the service didn't exist, the speaker had never once paid a phone bill. Sitting in an armchair vaguely too large him, was what appeared to be a toddler. A comically large hat was wrapped snugly around his head, just above two letters reading "Jr". Tired eyes stared blankly at the lofty mountains of paper before there was a slight knock on his door and a pleasant voice.

"Um, sorry to interrupt but we just arrived back and I was curious if… Goodness, are you alright, Koenma? You look awful."

The toddler, Koenma, snapped out of his short reverie, yawning loudly. A teal pacifier hung precariously off his lower lip, threatening to fall to the filthy floor, but oddly enough not. This was the son of King Enma, a Japanese God of the dead, formally called Lord Enma Jr, but called Koenma by people who didn't really take him all that seriously; embarrassingly, this was just about everybody he knew.

"Huh? What did you say?" asked Koenma, one eye twitching in exhaustion.

"I asked if you were alright… we're going to be heading home. Perhaps you should get some rest," the voice replied.

Even though Koenma could not see the speaker, he already knew what the young man looked like. As usual, he would most likely still be dressed in his school's uniform, magenta with gold trim, and rose red hair would fall messily his face. Eyebrows would be knitted in worry over large, expressive green eyes that glinted in the light like precious jewels.

"I'll be fine… just dealing with a…" he wondered how he could describe the man he was talking to moment ago, "… a pest. That's all. Go ahead and get some rest, Kurama."

Nodding his head, the young man named Kurama turned quietly on his heel and left, still glancing over his shoulder once in worry before shaking his head to clear his mind.

"Just… a… pest…" Koenma groaned, burying his face in his arms, knowing that tomorrow he would have to send his spirit detectives after the man. In the mean time, he'd let them sleep. He sure as Hell wouldn't get any.

Morning came quickly, seemingly defying all restraints of time. Most people even described that morning as evil. Now, evil had nothing to do with it, as evil has better things to do than mess with clocks, such as tempt people, cause tax audits or make people lose reception on their cell phones.

Rising slowly, the Sun had just begun to make its way over the bright blue of Japan's sky. Already, four people were awake, their sleep patterns shattered by loud ringing noises. Though the sky was bright blue in Japan, where the four awake teens were currently located, it was anything but. Outside in the Spirit Realm, the sky was a stormy navy, clouds the color of granite boiled above. Occasionally, lightning cut across the sky ominously. One of the teens was the red haired Kurama from the night before, now wearing a pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt tucked into the waist of the pants, and he now stood in front of Koenma's desk noting the fact that the paperwork hadn't reduced yet and if anything, had grown. Sighing, he fought back a yawn, making his eyes squeeze shut for a moment before opening.

"Hey, Koenma, ya in there?" one of Kurama's companions asked, trying to see through the paperwork.

The speaker was tall, his curly hair the color of carrots teased into a ridiculous pompadour. High, well defined cheek bones were emphasized by small, squinted eyes on sallow skin. He was your average high school punk and he looked exhausted, dressed in a pair of paint spattered jeans and a dirty baseball jersey from his favorite team.

In a muffled voice, Koenma replied from somewhere behind the paper towers.

"Yes, Kuwabara, I am in here!"

One of the stacks moved slightly to the left and they could just barely see the boyish face of their employer, though the term boyish was used lightly.

"Holy cow, how did all of this paperwork build up?" one of the other young men breathed. Standing next to the orange haired giant, Kuwabara, was a young man dressed in jeans and a white tank top, his black hair gelled back so fiercely that it seemed to be tinted green. Large chocolate colored eyes scanned the mess and he whistled lowly, shoving his hands into the pockets of his old jean jacket.

"Should we help him out?" Kuwabara muttered over to his companions and at last the shortest of their group responded.

"Hn, if you ask me, he should stay there," he muttered off darkly. Standing with his legs just barely apart, braced against the floor like any fighter, was a young man, rather child like in appearance, though appearances had little to do with him. Eyes the color of a well aged red wine seemed to glow with the traces of annoyance and something vaguely more sinister. Dressed entirely in black, the rather gothic motif was added to by his hair, which was spiked on his head, defying gravity. Hidden under the rather large cloak was his trademark sword.

"Good to see you're on my side, Hiei," Koenma muttered off dryly, maneuvering so he could see his spirit detectives a little better and cleared his throat for their attention.

"As it would seem, I need you to do something very important. Consider it pest control if you must, but needless to say, we need this man out of Japan fast. I don't know WHAT he could do, and that'll only get me in more trouble with my dad…" Koenma trailed off the last bit, his mind painfully remembering his father's punishments.

"Pest control?" All four said, though each with their own tone.

"Yes, that's truthfully the best way to describe him…" Koenma trailed off the last part and as soon as he fell silent Kuwabara picked the conversation back up as usual with a question.

"Does he have a name?"

"Of course he has a name, you moron…" Hiei muttered off, getting a warning glance from Kurama.

"Well… He does have a name…" Again Koenma dropped the conversation quickly as it seemed to be his new habit.

"And that name would be…?" Yusuke decided he wasn't going to quit until he got answer. Koenma, realizing this, knew there was no easy way out.

"I wouldn't be able to tell you if I tried. He's got too many count," Koenma explained tersely.

"Than perhaps just one would do," Kurama added helpfully, hoping to at least get one question answered.

"Hm…" Koenma thought about, trying to figure out which one seemed… more human and finally decided, "Lucas, that's what he called himself at one point."

There was an odd choking noise coming from the two humans of the group as they tried to stifle the laughter that was creepy traitorously up their throats, only contained by tightly pursed lips. Deciding to spare his partners from their suffering, Kurama had to say it.

"Lucas?" There was obvious disbelief in his voice.

"Yes, Lucas," Koenma replied and he squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself for what he knew was going to happen anyway, no matter how quiet his spirit detectives were trying to be.

Three… Two… One… it happened, starting with Yusuke, who's inward sniggering was forcing itself to the surface until it burst forth with loud, raucous laughter that seemed to fill the room. Quickly following was Kuwabara, whose pale face was now the same hue as a fresh tomato, his small eyes squeezed shut in mirth.

"Stop laughing both of you! While THIS name might be, well, to be perfectly honest, pathetically lame, HE is NOT!" Koenma warned them, wishing, not for the first time, that those two humans had just a bit, mind you just a bit, more mature. Was it really too much to ask?

Though he was trying his hardest to get through to his detectives, he knew it was basically pointless. Sighing, he leaned back in his chair, waiting for the two to stop their rather girlish giggling. Finally, if not slowly, it dwindled down to silence and Yusuke asked the next question.

"So… why exactly should we be so afraid of this… Lucas…." He sniggered at this, "well, this person anyway? Can't be much harder than some of the bad guys we've fought before."

"Trust me, he is far worse than any of the bad guys you have faced so far," Koenma replied, trying to remain calm though his mind began to wander to the first time he had met the man.

"How 'bout a description? We can't go around to every person in Japan askin' if their name is Lucas," Kuwabara reasoned, realizing that it would probably take a long time and there was that new game he got that he really wanted to play. If they could get this done fast, you certainly wouldn't hear him complaining.

"Description… right… well, last time I saw him he was just a little taller than you, Kuwabara, with blonde hair that fell past his waist…" Koenma bit his lip, trying to remember how the man had looked and remembered another thing, "He always has blue eyes and looks European or American.

"Great, THAT won't be hard to find in Japan," Yusuke muttered, "Foreign exchange students are EVERYWHERE. It'll be like lookin' for a needle in a haybin."

Kurama cocked an eyebrow at the awkward phrase.

"Don't you mean 'hay stack'?" he asked politely.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever."

"It doesn't matter. Just find him, get him out, and DON'T fight him. No matter what, alright?" Koenma had meant for this statement to be final but saw Yusuke open his mouth and quickly blurt out what was on his mind, which honestly isn't much.

"No fightin'? What th' Hell? Why do you not want us to fight? I mean, what if he doesn't want to leave peacefully!"

The very idea of pacifism seemed to petrify Yusuke as he took a step toward Koenma to get his point across, slicing one hand through the air for a quick effect.

"I mean it, Yusuke. You have no idea how powerful this man is. Fighting against him is like committing Suicide. If he chooses not to leave peacefully, get out of the fight in everyway possible," Koenma warned gravely, giving Yusuke a warning glare as he opened his mouth to protest. "I mean it. Now, go out and find him, alright?"

Each one of them feeling differently about this mission, the four headed out back to Japan in search of the villain named Lucas…

"I don't like this idea," Yusuke moaned as the spirit detectives stepped into a café, each taking a seat around the small square table.

"Seems dumb if you ask me," Kuwabara added, nodding his head along with his friend's comment as Kurama got up to order drinks at the counter.

"I mean, not fightin' a bad guy? That seems… pointless. I mean, what're we gonna do, politely ask 'em to leave?"

"Perhaps a bit of pacifism would be good for you two," Kurama added as he made his way back to the table, four drinks clutched awkwardly to his body.

"Here, let me help with that," Kuwabara offered, taking two of the drinks, his own and Yusuke's, before he added his own two cents again. "But even you have to admit, it seems a bit pointless. What self respecting bad guy will just leave when you ask?"

Sighing, Kurama sank into the wood chair and blew on the cup full of tea before he took a deep breath and replied.

"I didn't say it made sense. I just said that pacifism _could_ do you some good."

"What exactly are you getting at?" Yusuke asked, vaguely threateningly, as he leaned across the table.

"Oh my… I'm not getting out of this one, am I?" Kurama mused slightly, smiling exasperatedly to himself before defending himself from the two school punks.

Oddly, nobody noticed that the fourth member of the group, Hiei, had remained quiet. But then again, they really just dismissed him as being mood as usual, which he partially was, but that was not the only thing that was on his dark little mind. Staring dourly at the hot cup of black tea in his bandaged hands, he remained, for the most part, ignored. Secretly, this was how he preferred it.

There was a click as the door to the café opened and someone stepped in.

Normally as loud as any little coffee shop, the boisterous crowd that frequented it suddenly became hushed, each stopping their conversation mid sentence, and in some cases mid word, and they each stared at their drinks, food, or newspapers respectively. This odd phenomenon of silence did not go unnoticed by the four spirit detectives as Kuwabara suddenly shivered. Every muscle in his body felt oddly tense, cold and the entire room felt… dead. Not a single aura could be sensed, just a vast nothingness.

The soft thumping of boots on tile suddenly filled the quiet and all but Hiei looked at the door.

Striding confidently in was a man, tall, with blonde hair that shone in the light, giving him the vague impression of a halo or some other nimbus. Pale, perfect skin seemed to glow just barely but it could have been from the contrast of the dark clothing. Sitting delicately on the tip of his thin nose, the man stared over a pair of thin reading glasses with eyes of the palest blue. Moving with a liquid sort of grace, his sleek form was covered in a long black trench coat, bedecked with enough buckles to make any hardcore gothic jealous, and they could see it was worn over what appeared to be a fine suit, the neck unbuttoned to reveal a surprisingly slender neck for a man.

Strolling smoothly to the counter, he pulled one hand out of his pocket, a credit card held between his fore and middle finger, his hand delicately manicured.

"I'd like a cup of coffee please."

When he spoke, his voice was smooth enough to make every girl in the café sigh longingly to themselves, or the shyer of the bunch blush a fantastic shade of burgundy. The waitress herself was not entirely immune as her highly glossed lips curved into a coy little smile.

"How would you like it then?" the tone in her voice suggesting something more than coffee, though the man acted like he didn't notice.

"Dark as night, hot as hell and sweet as sin," he replied, smirking at her as she took the credit card from his fingers, her own brushing against his for a moment. They were icy cold to the touch and made the girl for an instant think of ice, though the man looked more like some otherworldly creature out of a fantasy novel.

"Just the way we make it," she replied, oddly disturbed by the coldness of his touch.

He waited for a second, drumming his long fingers against the counter until the came back with the cup and nodded his head politely, taking back his credit card. Turning slightly on his heel he made his way to the only empty table in the café which was shoved next to the window with one lone chair, though nobody could remember it being there a few seconds ago.

As soon as he sat back down the noise began again, but the cold dread that filled the room didn't leave, making Kuwabara still shiver despite the heat.

"Do any of you guys sense… that…" he whispered over, trying to remain silent so the man wouldn't hear.

"Sense what?" Yusuke asked, blowing a little steam off his coffee before taking a sip and abruptly burning his tongue.

"I… I can't sense anythin'… I think that guy has somthin' to do with it," Kuwabara replied, leaning across the table so they could hear him better.

"Yes… I must agree, it's… dead in here all of a sudden," Kurama added, taking long swig of his tea and sighing warmly.

There was a clink as the man put down his drink and walked to a middle aged woman who was sitting with a few of her other middle aged friends and promptly took the newspaper out of her hands. She didn't notice a thing, or if she did she acted like nothing was wrong, even though the paper she was just reading was now being carried off to the table near the window with the tall, blonde man. In fact, nobody did anything. Leaning back in the wooden chair, the man flicked the paper open with practiced ease and proceeded to read something, though his eyes didn't seem to move.

"Okay… THAT was creepy," Yusuke stated, and their table fell silent, an uneasy silence permeating their table like a fog.

After what seemed like an eternity the man got up, left his drink, returned the paper and made their way to the table occupied by the detectives. Trying desperately to act like they didn't notice, or didn't care they waited in suspense until he reached them, leaning against the wood top, his long fingers delicately resting on their tips, taking the weight expertly. He sighed and smiled calmly at them, though none of the warmth reached his eyes which remained as cold and cruel as ever.

"Good day…I realize what exactly you are doing, and I ask you, kindly, to leave me alone," though his words were as smooth as silk, threats seemed to be threaded through each letter, daring them to say that they weren't going to leave him alone.

Deciding that in front of regular humans they should act normal, Kurama decided to try and get him to leave.

"What exactly are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about, Shuichi, or should I say Kurama? What exactly is a demon like you doing here of all places? Playing human are we?" He sounded innocent but it only managed to mock them. Kurama bristled, his eyes darting around.

"Oh, don't worry about them, they won't hear a damn word," the man reassured.

"An' how do you know that?" Yusuke challenged, hissing out his words.

"Simple. Because I don't want them to hear," he replied, waving a hand casually through the air as though this were a normal conversation.

"You're Lucas, aren't you?" Kurama asked, putting down his drink to try and stare the man in the eyes. It didn't seem to work as every time he attempted, his eyes would avert out of sheer discomfort. There was something in those eyes, an odd mixture of cruelty and childlike delight that made them shine oddly in the light, as though small blue fires burned behind each pupil.

"Oh, is that what that child said? Yes, very well, I have been called Lucas before… and many other things," again he smiled as though remembering something that he was particularly fond of.

"Then… please, leave," Kuwabara managed to get that out before the lump in his throat prevented him from saying anything further.

"I will leave when I want, though you are welcome to try and make me… Alas, I must leave you four… though I will see you again… perhaps not you, Hiei. You wouldn't want me to go back on our deal, would you?" With that he walked off, leaving the café quickly. As soon as he had stepped back outside the warmth returned to the small room.

"What was that…?" Kuwabara breathed, looking around as the woman with the newspaper suddenly noticed that it was in her other hand.

"I… I don't know," Kurama trailed off, his mind wandering now, trying to figure out just how the man knew their names…

Outside, "Lucas" made a slight face as he walked down the street across from the café. Oh how he hated people who ruin vacations. He was hoping that he wouldn't have to do any work while he was here… now he was basically forced to. Shoving his hands deeper into his trench coat's pockets, the strolled off whistling to himself mainly, passing by a cute couple on a bench.

Casually flicking his wrist at them, by the time he passed they were fighting, as suddenly the girlfriend knew about all the cheating he had done on her with her own best friend.

He whistled just a little louder, he strolled past staring at the perfect blue skies.

He might just enjoy Japan after all….

Tren: Well well well, lookie here, I finished another chapter!

Keichi: I think the readers can tell that by now…

Tren: Oh btw, this is Keichi, my muse, split personality and character in my fanfic "All in the family" Read it!

Keichi: Shameless promotion of your stories? How the mighty have fallen... (Shakes head and goes to lie down on couch)

Tren: Hah! That's what you think! (Points triumphantly at Keichi) You have to be mighty first! I've just fallen!

Keichi: That's… true. Huh… Didn't think about it like that…

Tren: Exactly! Okay, let's answer those reviews!

Keichi: Do we have to?

Tren: Yes.

Keichi: (groans and buries head in pillow)

Tren: Who're gonna answer first?

Keichi: (looks on laptop) KyoHana.

Tren: Right-o. Thanks! It's all those things? Well, yes, another update. Was it soon enough?

Keichi: And… Brenda… that's it.

Tren: Only two people? Darn… well, thanks. As for what the blonde is…. Angel is sorta correct…

Keichi: we'd also like to thank KyoHana for putting this story under story alert and under favorite story. Much love.

Tren: Until next time.


	3. Thwarting and Michael

**Note:** Again, reviews will be answered at the end. Enjoy

-Don Juan (to the Devil): It is the success with which you have diverted the attention of men from their real purpose… that has earned you the name of The Tempter."

-George Bernard Shaw

It was twilight and the sky above Japan looked as though it was on fire as soft clouds swept by the harsh winds that had suddenly settled on the town. Silhouetted against the sun was a figure standing on top of a building. His arms crossed over his chest, it was the most recent villain for the Spirit Detectives who, so far, was called Lucas, though he refused to tell what his real name was. Blowing carelessly around his face was his soft blonde hair, cut since the last time the son of King Enma had seen him. Glasses missing from his face his eyes were scanning the city below him as though he owned it. Finally his eyes alighted on something and he smiled calmly, stepping off the ledge of the ten story apartment and fell quietly to the pavement, his boots connecting toe to heel with no discernable sound. Clothing settling back around his body he pulled slightly at the cuffs of his jacket before walking after a young woman ten feet in front of him.

Heels pounding angrily against the floor, she flicked her long, bleached blonde hair over one shoulder as she stormed off down the streets of Japan. Dressed in a cute pair of jeans and a warm wool pea coat with her hands shoved deep into her pockets she looked off, angry, tears welling up in her eyes.

"I… I can't believe that good for nothing…" she muttered off, making her way to a small bench outside the nearby park.

Falling gratefully onto the metal, barred seating, she leaned on her knees, tears falling off her eyes and splashing wetly onto the pavement. Taking in a deep, shuddering breath she suddenly became aware that someone was behind her by the soft whisper of a swishing jacket.

"You look like your having a bad day," a smooth voice said to her. It was smooth and kind, as though the speaker knew what had happened to her and was telling her that everything would be alright.

"You have no idea," she bitterly replied, wiping the tears off her face as the speaker moved over and sat down next to her.

"Here."

In front of her face was a hand, smooth, pale and finely manicured. Clasped between the long fingers was a square of fine cloth, a handkerchief. Taking it gently, she thought to herself who exactly carried around those things anymore. Shrugging to off she wiped her face off and looked at the man.

Staring at her with a look of obvious concern was a man straight out of fairytale. Taking his hand away from her he tucked it back into the pocket of his trench coat as though to ward off the chill that was beginning to fall onto Japan's streets. Quickly he tucked his bangs behind his eyes, fingers brushing against the silver hoops that ran through the lobe. Smiling at her, his nose wrinkled just slightly in an endearing fashion.

"Mind telling me exactly what happened?"

Next thing she knew it all came out. She had been dating this guy; they graduated from the same high school and only recently found each other. They were sitting on a park bench, just like the one they were on now, when suddenly, it hit her. He'd been cheating on her with her best friend. Upset, she confronted him. As it turned out it was true. This was where she stopped and broke out into uncontrollable sobs, her fingers grasping desperately onto his jacket.

"It's alright… you're fine…" the man comforted her, running his cold hand over her soft, fine hair.

"I… I would do anything to get him back…" she muttered off finally once the sobs that had wracked her body had subsided, leaving her shaking slightly.

"…" at first he was quiet then, "… anything?"

She frowned slightly, her brows furrowing. There was something odd in his voice, it seemed to tremble slightly with an odd sort of eagerness, like a puppy waiting for its masters call after waiting for so long. Thinking it'd be best to see what the man's expression was she tried to look up, but found his hand still, ever so gently pressing her face down so all she could see was his jacket.

"You said you'd do anything, Michiko… do you mean it?" he whispered, his oddly cool breath washing over her ear, making her long to shiver but her entire body seemed frozen.

'_How does he know my name?_' she thought off to herself as his hand now had begun to absentmindedly braid her long locks.

"Well, I can make sure you and your boyfriend, Hiroshi, will live and love until last days of your lives… what do you say? Will you still to anything?"

It was odd to her, his voice sounded so warm so how could his body be so cold? The chill that seemed to flow off him had long since begun to make her shiver so she clutched tighter to his chest and was surprised to find that where his heart should be was warm. To be more accurate, it felt as though he was burning, as though a fire was contained just in the one place, burning forever.

"I… I…" she couldn't think straight as the heat against her face began to addle her brain, making her sleepy. Didn't she want to be together with Hiroshi forever? "Yes… I want to be with him… to forget the affair… for him to love only me forever..." Michiko mumbled, curling up against his entire body now, just to get closer to him.

"Then make a deal with me. I'll ensure that Hiroshi will forget that friend of yours and love only you until the day he dies, and you will do the same. Nothing shall tear you apart… but I won't do this for free," the man, added, lingering the last part, waiting for her to ask.

"Mmm…." She sighed and then spoke up again, "What do you want?"

"All I ask for is your soul."

"My soul?" Michiko giggled as though it was funny, "I think I might need that to live, you know?"

"Don't be silly, I'm not asking for it now. I'll just collect it when you've died and I've upheld our end of the deal? So how does that sound?"

No matter how hard Michiko tried to think it over her mind just wandered off as her every thought kept trying to call her to sleep. It didn't really seem like that bad of deal though. All she had to do was make a deal… and who needed a soul once your dead?

"Fine… It's a deal…"

Suddenly he began to move until he was standing and he made sure she was sitting, if not haphazardly, on the bench. Sweeping elegantly onto her knees, his coat's hem billowed and fanned out on the pavement. Bowing courteously, he took her hand in his own and out of nowhere procured a thick, cream colored scroll of parchment. She could see it was written in some ancient language. Her eyes scanned down it and she read:

Ut subcribo meus animus super , Ego Michiko , quaeso vita of diligo quod perpes bliss per meus impono…

She got exactly that far before her eyes again wandered and she stared at the man, who stared at her almost hungrily but with a painful sort of sadness lingering just behind it in his bright blue eyes.

"Simply sign you name," he held out his hand which clasped a thin black pen that looked as though it could break the speed limit.

Awkwardly taking it from his hand, she was about to set the tip on the paper when a voice called out.

"Ma'am! Ma'am! There you are!"

Surprised and suddenly scared, Michiko looked over to see a young man running towards them, her purse swinging from one of his hands.

"Good, Ma'am! I was hoping to find you! You left this at the deli!"

Sure enough, he still wore the apron of a deli worker, his soft brunette hair pulled away from his face with a thin white ribbon.

"Oh…" confused, Michiko stood up and took it from him just as her cell phone began to ring. Picking it up, she walked off, chatting with her boyfriend, who was apologizing, crying to her about how badly he loves her and wants he to give him another chance. With that she headed back to the apartment that they shared, the memory of the man she had snuggled against now fading, and she vaguely wondered why some of her hair was braided.

"Dammit…" the man muttered off, watching as she left and he glanced down at the still unsigned contract.

"Hm, don't you just love a happy ending?" the deli worker sighed, grinning over at the tall blonde mysteriously.

Annoyed at the anonymous good guy, Lucas took a good look at the guy. Just barely shorter than him, he had eyes the same color of blue as his own which were smiling genially at the disappearing figure of Michiko. Though he had a deli frock on, underneath he wore a pair of pale blue jeans and a pure white oxford shirt, unbuttoned around the neck, revealing perfectly tan skin.

"Mm… yes… a happy ending," Lucas replied tersely, rolling his eyes. With a wave of his hand the parchment burst into flames and the pen remained to be tucked into a hidden pocket of his jacket.

"Makes it all worthwhile, no? So lucky I found that purse," the deli guy added nodding his head appreciatively.

"Luck has nothing to do with it," Lucas muttered off, glaring at an innocent piece of shrubbery nearby, imagining what he wished to be doing to the young man next to him, as he appeared to be barely older than 21.

"I really do wish them the best," the man added, smiling cheerfully while crossing his arms over his chest.

"Oh would you take that hideous frock off? You look ridiculous," Lucas snapped, turning on the man who just stared at him with mockingly innocent eyes.

"But why? I think this color is actually really flattering," the man replied, waving expressively at the apron that was a dark navy blue that complemented his tan skin and pale eyes.

"Honestly…" Lucas groaned, hiding his face in one hand while the man snickered and by the time he looked up again, the offending garment was vanishing in a flash of white light soon after the man removed a pale pair of silver rimmed glasses from one of the pockets.

"There, any better?" he asked politely, holding his hands out, palms up as though offering a truce.

"Slightly. You do realize my existence would be a lot easier if you people would just stop nagging me at every chance I get for a decent deal?" Lucas sighed, looking up at the sky with bored eyes.

"Yes, we do, but it's not entirely as though you don't give us a hard time all by yourself," he retorted optimistically, turning his own gaze upward to see what Lucas was staring at while pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose, making sure the legs were snugly tucked behind he his ears.

"Hah, you should just leave me to my own device and I'll just leave you to yours, would it really be that hard?" Lucas asked, pushing his hair out of his face.

"Now, THAT would be impossible. Hm… So what exactly are you doing here?" the man began to walk off, Lucas following to keep the conversation going.

"Me? I thought I deserved a vacation."

"And you normally work on your vacations…?"

"Now that you mention it, no… but some spirit detectives put in a rather foul mood."

"Hm… THAT is certainly an impressive feat. Of course, I can't blame you, they really are a nuisance," the man sighed at the last part and tucked his hands into the pockets of his pale jeans and strolled off all the more merry.

"To annoy you? I don't really know what I'm going to do with them!" Lucas laughed at the last part, casting a sideways glance at the man beside him. Just for an instant he could see a pair of white wings coming off the man's back, simply a phantom relief of moonlight that disappeared when Lucas took a closer look.

"What are you planning to do?" the man asked apprehensively, squinting suspiciously at Lucas.

"Mm… whatever are you implying?" his eyebrows shot up incredulously as he stared at the brunette. "Are you trying to say that I might do something… bad to those Detectives?"

"Oooh… I know you to well, you old Devil, so don't try to act all blameless with me!" the brunette cried out wretchedly, wringing his hands together.

"I will simply go to see them, if they choose to attack, I'll more than gladly fight back," Lucas replied calmly, patting the man next to him on the shoulder.

The man could only sigh as he walked silently next to Lucas, both getting momentarily lost in their own thoughts before Lucas spoke.

"As much as I adore spending time with you and you kind… you must excuse me… I must find some kind of lodgings."

"Oh… alright," the brunette replied slightly.

"Mm…" the man hummed off slightly and then turned around, facing the brunette again and completely forgetting his hunt for lodgings. "You really are horrible, Michael." One hand dug around in his pocket until it finally procured a sleek silver Zippo lighter and a crumpled packet of unfiltered cigarettes. The brand's name had been worn away from the amount of time it had been crushed. Effortlessly he flipped the lighter open with a flick of the wrist and a small flame began to flicker. Within seconds he was sucking almost reverently, breathing the smoke slowly out of the side of mouth.

"That's a disgusting habit. It'll turn your lungs black," the brunette called Michael wrinkled his nose slightly even though, oddly, there was no smoky smell in the air. Thinking about it for a moment, he noticed that his glasses had slid to the tip of his nose and with his middle and forefinger he pushed them back up to their rightful places.

"Do you think I really care all that much? Besides, then my lungs will match my heart, eh?" Smiling wryly, Lucas pulled the cigarette away from his mouth, breathing out slowly, making small nimbus clouds drift off into the freezing cold air.

"Still… it's revolting," Michael waved offhandedly while fanning some of the lingering smoke away from his clothes.

"Sure, sure… but it doesn't stink, does it?" Lucas cocked his eyebrow at his sort of "companion" and smirked, taking another long drag.

"Hmmm…" Michael pressed his lips together and made an odd sort of nagging hum before he looked off and sighed. "I have to go. Urgent business and all."

Before explaining exactly what the "urgent business" was, Michael was gone in flash of pure light and a soft flurry of pure white feathers. Lucas sighed, making sure to steer clear from the feathers like the plague and looked off, twirling the cigarette casually between his two fingers. The glowing red tip left trails of light as it spun in circles until he looked off, snuffing against the garbage can nearby and walked off, tossing the wasted butt away with a cool flick of his fingers.

Mind now wandering he began to muse on his short attention span, but quickly forgot what he was thinking and decided instead to try and figure out what to do with those spirit detectives. Deciding instead to wander around the forest just a bit longer he sighed, strolling slowly between the trees, his eyes meandering around the darkness though it had never once bugged his vision.

"Hmm…. Damn…" Lucas muttered off the last part, running his hands through his hair absentmindedly as he finally headed out, curious as to where he was going to find lodging this late at night.

Oh well, there was one perk about being "evil".

No need for reservations.

-Tren: Well, end of chapter three…

Keichi: AND STILL NO ACTION!

Tren: Yeah, yeah… we have to wait for the Reikai Tentai to do something dumb.

Keichi: Mmm hmm. Knowing Kazuma and Urameshi… well… (Looks off frankly) it won't take long.

Tren: Of course, thanks to all of you who are willing to read this, it means a lot. Also, who do you think Lucas is?

Keichi: Most of them have already guessed.

Tren: Wow…. (looks off at computer) your right. Also, check out my other fanfics if you want!

Keichi: Yeah, if you want (sarcasm)

Tren: Anyway, lets answer these reviews!

Keichi: People… reviewed? (cocks eyebrow, surprised and suspicious)

Tren: Yes… (death glare) yes they did! So let's answer them!

Keichi: Alright, first off we have Sabs… she's knows the answers to her review and all…

Tren: Yups… so onto M0nk3ys (names has been shortened for our sanity)

Keichi: Yeah, you don't know a lot of things? Allllllright…

Tren: Glad you like it!

Keichi:onto inkheart

Tren: Glad to see you've found some of my other fics. Yeah, 'rents don't know about my fanfics… glad you love it! Lucas… he's not so original, though the way he acts is kinda new… I love the fact that you give such long reviews, it makes all this writing totally worthwhile. Thanks!

Keichi: Onto Niana Kuonji.

Tren: Glad you like, yeah, Hiei's oddly quiet but then again, with all the crap Hiei's done, you just know he's made a deal somewhere back when… did you friend like this? Or read this for that matter?

Keichi: next is simply Amanda… glad you find this interesting?

Tren: and shadowcat, you are nice a blunt. Yeah, Lucas is… well… keeping that hidden.

Keichi: And last of all, Uma (again, name shortened) thanks! Glad it's still awesome

Tren: Until next time, Cheerio!


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